Finding Courage
by Rissa5
Summary: Joe and Izzy take a run to the store for milk... *Jyoushiro*
1. Milk

Author's Notes:

Hooray! Jyoushiro! All right, here's your warning. This is yaoi, which means boy with boy, so if that ain't your style, move on out, okay? 

All right, I'd like to say that even to this day, the couple I am most supportive of is Taito (Tai and Matt), and although I have a Taito fiction, it was written several years ago and needs serious updating, so it may be a while. However, Jyoushiro (Joe and Izzy) is another pairing I'm into, and is an often neglected one, as well. This one only took me about five hours to write up, I was so inspired.

This is also my first fiction with something other than just romance in it. It actually has a touch of action. Whoo! Okay, so it's not that exciting, but still… Since there is violence, I've rated it somewhat higher as well.

If you need a bit of background here, Joe is twenty and Izzy is eighteen, and they have both moved to America to attend a college in Maine together. Any more would spoil things, so I guess I'll let you get to it.

Enjoy… 

****

Chapter One

"Izzy, are we out of milk?" Joe inquired, slamming the refrigerator shut with a huff. Izzy, seated at the kitchen table,–well, it was really only a cheap card table–barely glanced up from his computer.

"Yeah, I used the last of it this morning."

Joe frowned, feeling the first edges of irritation steal over him. Izzy looked up, his own face taking on a sour look, as though he suspected what was coming. "Izzy, you know I always have milk with my lunch after class. Why didn't you leave some?"

"I didn't think to. Sorry." Izzy didn't sound to sorry, and truthfully, he wasn't. Joe's uppity attitude really got on his nerves sometimes.

"Why didn't you buy more?"

"I've been busy all day. And I'm still busy. Would you please leave me alone about it?"

"What, do you think you're the only one with homework to do? I have a twenty-page report due Monday. I don't have any more extra time than you."

Izzy snapped the computer shut with a tight click, true anger etched on his face. "Fine," he said through thin lips, "I'll go pick some up right now. Just to get away from you."

Izzy, even as he stormed out of the kitchen and into his own bedroom, began to feel the first pangs of regret. Joe stood by the counter, his hand still on the refrigerator door, and sat down heavily at the table, listening to the sounds of Izzy putting his shoes on and grabbing his keys in the other room.

This was the third discussion-gone-bad they had had in just the two weeks since they had taken the apartment and become roommates. Joe didn't quite know how to handle the situation. He was used to order and responsibility, not flakiness. Izzy was so intelligent, but _so_ flighty, and Joe had wondered more than once how all of their plans would work out if this was how things were already ending up.

But Joe's own sense of reliability–infamous, infamous, just like Izzy's knowledge–told him not to give up on the future _or _the friendship. He stood, stopping a rancorous Izzy as he exited his room. "I'm sorry, Izzy. I'll go with you."

Izzy immediately slumped back, touches of ruefulness hitting his own face, "I'm sorry, too, Joe." He jingled his keys and half-smiled, "How about this? After we pick up the milk, I'll treat for ice cream to make it up. Sound good?"

Joe felt the first twinges of a blush traveling to his face, and adjusted his glasses, embarrassed. Izzy's kind streak always brought this sort of reaction out of him, and he suspected that if he took a closer look at the reason for it, he'd wind up with more problems than he could manage.

Joe coughed, and noticed a small, strange smile on Izzy's face. He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, answering with a careful, casual, "Sounds great. Let's go."

"_Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap! Dirty deeds and they're done dirt–_" The screeching voice was cut off abruptly when Joe reached over and jabbed at the dial, shuddering. Izzy laughed a little, glad of it. Neither of them cared much for AC/DC. Izzy, shooting a corner-of-the-eye glance at Joe, cautioned to say, "We have so much in common, Joe. I don't understand why we're fighting so much." Joe didn't answer, just peered out the window as Izzy put the car in gear and backed them out. It was starting to sprinkle lightly. Izzy concentrated on driving.

The place they were headed to was called Casey's Corner. It was a pretty dinky little grocery shop, but both Joe and Izzy had taken to it for its quaintness and the lowest prices they could find in Bangor, Maine–a must for the college students. The owner–Casey, in fact–was usually manning the cash register, which added to its charm.

Izzy turned on his wipers as well as his thoughts, which as usual, drifted over to Joe right off. He hadn't wanted the start of it all to go badly, but Joe could be so nitpicky. Not that Izzy hadn't known that prior to moving in with him. They had been friends for eight years now, and had only grown closer, especially in high school, when Izzy's high marks had him moved into some of Joe's classes. 

Maybe it was something about America that had them bickering... Being so far away from family and on their own for the first time, that was difficult enough. And Izzy had to deal with...well, he had other things to deal with as well. Izzy shot another glance to his right–at the sullen Joe–and felt the teensy hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. He shook his head, and, realizing they had reached their destination, parked the car.

As he pulled the keys from the ignition, Izzy hesitated, and Joe watched him. "I'm sorry nothing's been working out, Joe." He couldn't think of much more to say than that. The rain splattered lightly onto the roof and windshield. Izzy turned to Joe, who was studying him with dark eyes.

Slowly, he reached a hand out and ran two fingers down Izzy's sleeve, taking great interest in the way Izzy's cheeks went pink. Could it be...? He pulled his hand away. "Hey," he spoke, adjusting his glasses once more, "We'll work it out. Don't worry." And with that, he left the car, and Izzy, who moved quickly to catch up, began to ponder on the fact that neither he nor Joe had dated a girl since–well, since Izzy was a sophomore–two years before. A double date Mimi had set them up on that had gone wrong in so many ways. Izzy could only remember that the girls were both airheads and that the entire evening felt amiss for reasons he couldn't begin to admit.

Izzy hung his head as they splashed through puddles to the store's entrance, but finally couldn't keep his eyes to himself. He laid them upon Joe's back, suddenly feeling his problem coming to a head... 


	2. Chocolate Drops

Author's Notes:

Just going to repeat my warning. This is yaoi (boy on boy), so back away now if you have any impulsive urges to flame me…

****

Chapter Two

"Milk." Into the basket for it. That was simple enough. "Do we need anything else? That milk looks pretty lonely there in the basket..." Izzy was eying the candy section, particularly the very expensive chocolate drops he had had to sacrifice on their meager budget.

"No, no, no. You know we don't have money for that. Just milk. Come on."

Izzy shrugged, following Joe (once again) to the counter to pay, not taking note of the two men entering the store–until one of them stuck a gun to his head.

It was hard and cold against his temple, and he felt dangerously close to wetting his pants. The man behind the gun was heavyset and dressed all in black, with a bright green ski mask covering his face. Izzy could see his eyes through it, though. That man was insane. Izzy didn't move; he could only wonder how one moment he had been admiring Joe's new glasses, and the next, his life was up for grabs.

"Don't move. Don't make a sound. I _will_ shoot you." To his partner, "Lower the shades. Turn the sign over." He sent a grin to Izzy and Joe, who were the only customers present in the store. His voice was hard and ugly, "We're closed."

The other man, dressed similarly, but thinner and masked in brown, moved to do so, aiming his own gun in the general direction of Casey, who looked utterly furious. "You–" Any further words were both cut off and drowned out by the loudest sound Izzy had ever heard. It took him a moment to realize that the sound had been a gunshot, and Casey of Casey's Corner was no more. His body had, mercifully, fallen behind the counter, but a ghastly spray of blood darkened the cigarette case behind the spot he had been standing.

Izzy leaned over and threw up onto the linoleum.

Joe watched all of this with somewhat more clarity than his younger friend, watched as the brown-masked man moved quickly behind the counter to the open register–open because Casey had been ringing them up–and piled bills into a sack. Joe was sweating heavily, but a calmness he wished he had possessed eight years ago had taken him. His most rational thought was that he would not, under any circumstances, let these men harm Izzy.

Green-mask still had the gun pointed in Izzy's direction, and Joe stepped nimbly in front of it, staring down the madman intensely. The gunmen appeared nonplussed, but reached out a hand and gave Joe a shove, sending both he and Izzy to the floor. "Don't move, or I will shoot you. It's not hard to understand." This man seemed frightfully confident,–he had been the one to shoot Casey, Joe now realized–but his partner, adam's apple bobbing wildly, came out from behind the counter looking extremely distraught.

"I got the money. Let's get outta here." He kept shooting glances in the direction of the body, though it could not be seen. Brown-mask almost dropped his gun when the sudden wail of sirens came into hearing range.

Brown-mask's eyes grew wide, "You were supposed to kill him before he tripped an alarm!" He came several steps closer.

Green-mask remained collected still. "We have hostages."

Brown-mask's mouth dropped open, "Hostages? Hostages! It don't matter! Oh, God..." He pulled away, putting his hands to his head.

Outside, someone with a bullhorn began to yell. Joe couldn't make out what he was saying over Brown-mask's ranting. He scooted over to Izzy, who was shaking–deep shakes that started at his head and ran down to his feet. Izzy turned his ebony eyes to Joe, and part of a smile lit up his pallid face. "Guess I should have come alone after all, huh? At least you would have been safe."

Of all the times! Joe was caught between the heat wave he felt at Izzy's concern and the horror at the thought of Izzy being in this situation alone. The combination of these two pushed him to reach a hand out and place it on Izzy's shoulder in what he hoped came across as comfort. He was surprised when Izzy responded by putting his hand over Joe's own, though he continued to look semi-nauseous.

"Get up," Joe found a gun unpleasantly close to his head, and Green-mask shoved it into his skin painfully as Joe struggled to pull himself to his feet. He turned to help Izzy and found that the gunman had already grabbed him roughly, nearly shoving him into Joe's arms. The man gave Izzy a long, leering look, and Joe felt an icy stab of fear.

Green-mask gestured to the other man, "Quit your jabbering and get over here." He pointed his gun at Izzy. "Let's rough this one up and show them cops we mean business."

Brown-mask shook his head fitfully, "We shouldn't do that–"

"Just do what I tell ya. I need you to keep the other one busy." His eyes fairly gleamed, and now it was Joe that came to the understanding that he was a just plain stark raving mad.

Brown-mask, still fretting to himself, and apparently unaware of how far gone his partner was, held a shaking gun directly to Joe's head. Green-mask reached out and grabbed Izzy's shoulder–he gave a small cry of pain–pulling him off to the side, and lifted his gun up in the air, meaning to smash it into the redhead's face.

For a moment, Joe forgot exactly where he was. He was lost in the innocently frightened look in Izzy's eyes–they were raised upwards to the deadly object in the madman's hand, and brimming with tears. It was all Joe could see. The gun pressed to his temple seemed to be lost in the equation. Emitting a sound something like a snarl, Joe leapt forward just in time to take the brunt of Green-mask's blow to the side of his face. 

At the same time, several other occurrences took place as well. Brown-mask, in his panic at losing control of his hostage, fired wildly, hitting his partner in the side of the neck. Green-mask, bringing his gun back into position after the blow to Joe's cheek, impulsively–whether purposely or not will never be known–fired his gun, and the bullet slammed into Joe's shoulder. And, as Joe fell to the ground, his eyes wide with shock, Izzy realized that he loved Joe and Joe loved him back.

Izzy dropped to his knees with a sound he would never remember making–something like the mewling of a cat–and unashamedly pulled Joe into his lap. Sticky blood coated his hands immediately, and Izzy trembled at the finality of its color. Joe smiled weakly up at him, and tried to speak, but a thin stream of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Looking into Izzy's wavering eyes, Joe came to the same conclusion that Izzy had seconds earlier. He wanted to say it aloud, but he just couldn't. A terrible pain gripped him, and he groaned, tucking his head into Izzy's chest. 

Izzy muttered something about him being a "damn fool,"–strong words, for Izzy–and something else–"I suppose we know now why we've been arguing so much, don't we?" Joe vaguely sensed the remaining gunman attempt escape, only to run right into the hands of the waiting police. He heard strong footsteps coming towards them, and the last thing he felt before slipping away was the soft touch of Izzy's lips on his forehead.


	3. Cake

Author's Notes:

Just going to repeat my warning. This is yaoi (boy on boy), so back away now if you have any impulsive urge to flame me…

This chapter is quite short; sorry about that. 

****

Chapter Three

Joe was a long time in recovering, but he managed to pull through within several weeks, and with Izzy's help, also kept up in his classes. Izzy doted on him endlessly, and Joe couldn't help but be pleased, even though he knew he didn't deserve all the attention. The day Izzy brought Joe home he had cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, and also baked a cake.

"A cake?" Joe questioned after spotting the cake on the table when the two walked in. He arched an eyebrow at his roomie. "You can't cook. What kind is it?"

"Hey! I cook just fine, thank you. And it's vanilla–with vanilla icing–just for you. What did you think I'd make? It's a boring flavor, though..." Izzy's rambling trailed off as Joe approached him, a tender look upon his face. Izzy bowed his head shyly, knowing this had been coming. His nerves seemed more alive than they had ever been.

Joe lifted his good arm and placed a hand upon Izzy's face. Izzy leaned into it a bit, closing his eyes at the touch of warmth. When he opened them, he realized he had ambled closer to the older boy. But it was Joe who bridged the difference, and the two met in their first kiss, something that was eight years in the coming. When they pulled apart, Izzy questioned him, "How did you ever find the courage to do that?"

Joe laughed, "What? To save your life, or to kiss you?"

Izzy blushed, wrapping his arms around Joe's waist. "Both, I guess."

Joe became serious, cupping Izzy's chin and gazing into his eyes, "I love you, Izzy."

For a second, Izzy's tongue clung adamantly onto the roof of his mouth, but then it loosened, and he returned with, "I love you, too, Joe." He pulled away, waving a finger at his new lover, "Are we going to eat your cake now?"

Joe smiled, "I don't know...I'm not sure it's safe..."

"Oh, you–" Izzy poked Joe's stomach gently, and was rewarded when Joe drew him easily into another kiss. 

The cake was soon forgotten.

The End.

Reviews are appreciated!


End file.
